Wolfblood
by DaenerysTargary3n
Summary: During their third year, with their new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, what could happen when the Golden Trio make a shocking discovery about the Marauders and Lily Evans? How will the year turn out and will a budding romance survive the obstacles of a frightening and mind-boggling school year?
1. Prologue: HARRY'S HOME

**Wolfblood**

 ******* Author's Note *******

Firstly, I do not own _Harry Potter_ or any of the wonderful things that J.K. Rowling or the people at Warner Bros. created for the novels or the film franchise. Secondly, this is the first story I'm trying that really has no romance or sexual content in it whatsoever as part of the main storyline. I have never seen anything like this so I'm quite proud of myself for thinking of it and I hope you enjoy reading _Wolfblood_ as much I am going to relish writing it. I do have to say that reviews make my day and are so important to me as a writer, so please do leave them, even if they're really short or really long, even if they're to tell me you hate the story or what you think I'm going to do with the story next. Whatever is fine with me…just something would be stellar! I would like to point out from the off that I will be using bits of the books and bits of the films as I basically rewrite the third instalment of the series with a double epilogue set later on. Please do treat this story a bit like a commentary, so there is – especially in this chapter – lots of paraphrasing the book and film, but I do omit a few irrelevant parts of the third instalment so if it isn't here it is as it was written by Rowling. The premise of this story is a little bit hard to grasp and I bet it's even harder to get behind but if it's something you are intrigued by and would like to see play out, do stick around and read.

 **DaenerysTargary3n**

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Prologue: HARRY'S HOME

"Harry? HARRY!"

Harry's heart leapt.

This was an unusual event, for the Boy Who Lived seldom experienced the exhilaration required for such a rhythm to strike up within his chest. However, it had been days since his eyes started to peer through the crowds and the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron where he was staying for the unkempt ginger hair of Ron Weasley and the bushy mane of brown hair belonging to Hermione Granger – the two people he longed to see before he had to go to King's Cross tomorrow.

He had seen Neville and his other friends from school, yet he only felt truly at home and comfortable with the pair he had battled the tasks set down by the teachers in his first year and then last year those who had been instrumental in ensuring that Tom Riddle's Diary did not take a life once more.

Now, crossing across the alley towards Gringott's, sitting at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, he revelled at hearing the loud, abrupt voice of Ron calling him. The delight was only increased by the sight of a freckly, tanned teenage girl sitting beside her redheaded friend enjoying what looked to be a hot fudge sundae.

Once he sat down between them and Ron flew into his tale of how the pair had searched high and low for their friend, commencing at the Leaky Cauldron and continuing their quest through many of the stores, never once relenting the narrative to Hermione. She sat serenely and picked at her ice cream while Ron chatted away, quite satisfied now that their quarry had been arrested. Harry noted as he listened to Ron but observed of Hermione that she appeared different and…he couldn't put his finger on it…more unwound and unburdened than she constantly seemed at Hogwarts. It was an odd and unexpected, but pleasant atmosphere.

Harry suddenly readjusted his concentration and was surprised that they knew where he was lodging.

"How did you guys know I'm at the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked.

"Dad."

Harry could have thumped himself on the head. Naturally, Mr Arthur Weasley would be well aware that Harry had… _overinflated_ his Aunt Marge and that this unfortunate circumstance had rendered him temporarily homeless, so the Leaky Cauldron had been serving as a residence over the rest of the holidays.

"You really blew up your aunt?" Hermione asked, quite obviously reining in her desire to give him the third degree and worry herself to death over consequences.

"I just lost control! I didn't do it on purpose!"

Hermione sighed, having lost the battle with her nature, "You could have been expelled!"

"Or even better, killed!" Ron blurted out, taking a brief respite from his loud guffaws at Harry's treatment of his relatives.

Harry and Hermione both knew what Ron was referring to in that jibe, but while Harry suppressed a giggle, Hermione's eyes became distinctly catlike and both boys wondered silently if she hadn't retained a little bit of her feline self from last year's Polyjuice Potion debacle. Harry, upon sensing danger, shrugged off his laughter and regained a serious expression.

"Forget expelled, 'Mione! I thought I was going to be arrested!"

Their banter dissolved into witty remarks about Harry's fame and special consideration, Ron's dire fate at the hands of Mrs Weasley should he 'accidentally' blow up an aunt and the probable inability of the Ministry of Magic to take him to trial alive in the aftermath.

"You can ask dad whatever you like tonight, mate," Ron said jovially, "cos we're staying at the Leaky Cauldron too."

Harry couldn't have been happier; or so he thought. That is until Hermione piped up that her mother and father had dropped her in Diagon Alley with her trunk and she would be staying the night in the Leaky cauldron as well.

Ron then showed off his new wand, and Harry grimaced as he recalled the reason behind the purchase. Hermione, being more interested in impending studies, was encumbered with three bulky bags of literature. Apparently, she was overloading herself with new courses, but Harry didn't know why he was so surprised to find his female friend laden with books and already timetabled to her back teeth. It was, in fact, so commonplace and in-character, that he put the thought to the back of his mind, only with a slight note to himself that should he notice Hermione straining under the pressure, he would call her up on it. Since Merlin only knew what they would face this year and if Hermione was too fried to save their collective behinds, they'd be up the creek without a paddle!

As Hermione answered Ron's questions and their discussion over Hermione's extensive course load changed into responses to Hermione's desire to acquire an owl and Ron's rat looking peaky, they paid for their sweet treats before going to the magical menagerie.

After a very arduous hour and a half of the witch behind the counter prodding and poking at Scabbers while Harry and Ron looked on, they were given the news that the rat was most probably on his last legs and had quite remarkably a long lifespan…for a rat. Hermione meanwhile had discovered a wild kind of monster that was labelled as a cat, but she postulated that it probably had some kneazle in the mix. She was quite taken with the hybrid and gave over willingly the ten galleons her parents had given her for her early birthday present. It was quite clear, however, that the creature she dubbed Crookshanks was not going to give the ailing Scabbers a peaceful period of decline.

With both humans and pets engaged in scuffles with themselves – Ron and Hermione using their words, while the animals fought tooth and claw with their owners making sizeable efforts to keep them apart – Harry accompanied the witch and the wizard to the pub to see the rest of the Weasley clan.

"Hello, Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley," Harry greeted upon entering the drab interior of his temporary home, "how did you enjoy Egypt?"

"Ooh, it was lovely, Harry dear. We saw ever such a lot and it was wonderful winning that prize from the Daily Prophet. For years, I thought those things went to fake families that the paper paid to pose afterwards – I mean, you never think that these things will happen to you, dear – but everything was very upfront and we had a lovely time with Bill."

While his wife was speaking, Mr Weasley was nodding along, quite content to allow his wife the right of speech. He usually looked cheerful and full of glee, yet Harry noticed there was something on his mind creating a distinct line between his eyebrows. It was unnerving to say the least.

"Harry," Ronald bellowed across the pub's dining room, "now we're back I can show you the Daily Prophet."

Harry waved his best friend off, "I've already read today's copy, Ron."

"Yeah, but this one isn't today's and you obviously haven't seen it otherwise you'd have mentioned it already."

Ron then disappeared into the back of the pub for a bit and returned a few moments later carefully clutching a well-folded newspaper.

"Look at this, Harry," Ron said with a smug grin plastered over his face, "you'll never guess!"

Fred and George then passed by and yelled that he might guess, and that Ron needed to stop showing his prized paper to everybody who passed him on the street and had the misfortune to clean his room at the Leaky Cauldron.

The centre of attention which Ron proceeded to show Harry was the centrefold of the paper with a large moving photograph of the Weasley family standing before the Pyramids of Giza, all happy and without a care in the world on their paid-for holiday. He was naturally pleased for his friend, but a part of his brain couldn't help but be envious of Ron, who despite being poor had the thing Harry desired most in the world – the love of family. He never got to go to exotic places, or visit relatives. No, the Boy Who Lived had to escape from his own house without a clue of who would take him in and then live out of his trunk.

Just then, he became aware of a tingling sensation in the middle of his back. Turning around, he was surprised to see Mr Weasley tapping him and when the older man had got his attention, Arthur beckoned for Harry to follow him.

Quite perturbed by the man's unusual desire to be alone with…well, anyone, Harry became even more certain something was wrong with Mr Weasley when he guided Harry into a dingier part of the pub behind a pillar so that they were utterly obscured from view from the rest of the pub's clientele.

"So, Harry," Mr Weasley began hesitantly, "what I'm about to tell you is said against my better judgment and certainly against what the Ministry would have me tell you about the situation, but I think you deserve – and need – to know. You are in danger, Harry. Grave danger."

The boy in danger had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the ginger-haired man who was now staring at him with wide eyes and a pallid complexion. It seemed that ever since he found out he was a wizard he was always in danger and Arthur was wasting his breath reminding him of the fact.

"Sirius Black?" Harry asked, having seen the posters for the escaped prisoner all around Diagon Alley.

"What do you know of Sirius Black?"

Harry thought, "Only that he's a fugitive."

Arthur seemed to calm down slightly at that revelation, but Harry could not surmise why.

"Do you know why? Why he was imprisoned? Why – we believe – he's escaped _now_?"

Harry shook his head.

"Thirteen years ago you stopped You-Know-Who and with his death, Black lost all he had worked and fought for. He was captured and sentenced to life in Azkaban prison. Although his master fell, he still is a faithful servant to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. To his belief, there is only one obstacle to his master's return to power, one thing to be eliminated for his master to regain full strength – you. This is the reason Black has escaped; he has escaped to seek you out and…"

With a grimace, Harry mumbled despondently, "To seek me out and kill me."

Mr Weasley acknowledged his correct estimation of the circumstances he was in and in his most serious tone ordered, "Harry, you must swear to me, promise me that whatever you hear, whatever you might feel, however angry you are, you will not seek Black out."

Harry had never been so confounded by an order in his life, and that was saying something as Aunt Petunia and Dudley had some truly mindboggling requests in the past. Yet Mr Weasley appeared genuinely scared by the notion that Harry might go looking for Sirius Black for whatever reason. It was as if Arthur Weasley expected Harry to suffer an extreme bout of stupidity in the future and was already guiding him away from such reckless and suicidal behaviour.

He asked, "Mr Weasley, why would I go looking for someone who wants me dead?"


	2. Chapter One: RON'S REASONING

Chapter One: RON'S REASONING

Harry sighed, "Come on, this is the only compartment with space."

The trio slumped down onto the seats, worn out from searching for somewhere to sit for over half an hour. Their only companion was a middle-aged man whose face was scarred and whose body was blanketed in a raggedy travelling cloak, which ought to have been thrown away decades ago. Installed in the train full of school children, the man looked like a fish out of water.

"Who do you think he is?" Ron asked, evidently unimpressed with the appearance of their company.

"R.J. Lupin."

Both boys looked at Hermione, not seeing how she could possibly possess that information. When she pointed up to the luggage rack and a travel-worn trunk bearing the name she spoke, the boys rolled their eyes at their own denseness.

"Yeah but why is he on the Hogwarts Express?"

This time it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes, "He's obviously a new professor."

With that enigma solved, the trio put their sleeping companion to the back of their minds and just joked about the boy's arriving at school in a conventional manner this year and Hermione's immense load of classes and whether she would be dropping dead before the Christmas holidays. It wasn't long before the lady with the snack cart came round and Harry bought loads of Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin juice. Once they had all inhaled their snacks and drinks, Hermione removed to the bathroom at the end of the carriage to change while Harry and Ron were certain enough that Professor Lupin would not stir while they were robing and remained in their compartment to get ready for their first day back at Hogwarts.

Hermione had been back for an hour or so and all three were comfortably sitting in their robes, just wondering about what their third year would hold for them, when suddenly, a cold spike of air punched through the cabin. At once, all three could see their own breath, the windows on both sides turned icy with cold smoke spreading throughout the compartment and their teeth began to chatter while their bodies shuddered to guard them against the unnatural drop in temperature.

"What on Earth?" Harry moaned, as they rose to examine the aisle for signs of why a train had taken on Arctic coldness.

It seemed that many of the other occupants of the carriage had the same idea and were now leaning into the aisle, all confused and all freezing. It was then that all the travelling students glimpsed shades of black flying around outside the train. The train…that had come to a terrifying and unexpected and literally chilling stop.

The doors which were normally sealed until the train came to its final destination screeched open and the carpeted floor turned into an ice rink as the individual blades of fabric became miniature icicles digging into the soles of everyone's feet.

"We should get back inside and wake him," Hermione advised, wagging her head towards the closest adult, "because I have no idea what is happening, why the train has stopped or what's making it so cold."

"Fine."

They all tried to rouse their taciturn companion, but to no avail. He was in so deep a sleep that not even Hermione's shaking of his shoulders was having any effect.

Hermione rose and tried to open the door of their compartment, but after trying a few times turned back to Ron and Harry and whispered, "I can't open the door. It's frozen shut."

So, they sat down and waited for the situation to resolve itself or for something worse to occur. The only action they did take was to take their wands to hand, just in case.

In the next minute, a grim shadow fell over the window to the aisle. The door began to scream open as if it was sheer torture for it to be pulled back. The torture was to come, however, as the mangled, inhuman hand that was retracting the cabin door was ugly and foretold nothing good. The rest of the body of this beast was covered, though barely, in a black torn cloak which obscured its face entirely but did not reach the floor, leaving it clear that this monster was floating above the floor.

As the being inspected the cabin, it took in Ron briefly before staring at Hermione for a while longer and completely passed over Lupin. However, when its apparent gaze fell on Harry, it entered the cabin fully, pressing Hermione and Ron as far as they could into their seats, and towered above the Boy Who Lived in its full petrifying glory and leaned into his personal space leaving barely an inch between its hollow blackness and Harry's nose.

Harry, meanwhile, began to feel number and number as this creature approached. It was no longer the cold affecting him, but something else, something else entirely. Something deeper. The power this thing was exuding stretched into his heart, his mind and most painfully, his soul. When he tried to coax his legs into moving away from it, nothing happened. He wasn't even sure he could feel anything below his chest anymore. Moreover, he wasn't able to concentrate on anything in the moment. Whatever the interloper was doing to him, it was preventing him from escaping from this voice echoing in the back of his head. He did notice that the female voice was saying his name and it seemed to be getting closer and louder.

At once the being seemed to inhale and the inconceivable pain commenced. He felt as though he were painfully dying and his killer was pulling his brain out of his head into those ghastly teeth he could see in a wide open mouth that was tugging his essence right out of his body.

"Expecto Patronum!"

"HARRY!" The voice inside his head shrieked loudly as though its owner was standing right next to him.

That was the last thing he heard before he collapsed and the world went black.

When he woke up he felt something soft beneath his head and a cool hand atop his clammy brow. Looking up and feeling the crick in his neck, he saw the hazel eyes of Hermione observing him carefully and with an anxious smile. He tried to rise but was unable to as someone's hands were keeping him grounded using Hermione's lap as a pillow, albeit a very comfortable one.

"Well, well, Mr Potter," a strange, unknown voice said, "glad you're feeling up to getting up, but best stay still just a moment longer."

When Hermione saw Harry's perplexity as he struggled to see who was speaking to him, she announced, "Harry, this is Professor Lupin. He's going to be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He cast the spell that I'm pretty sure saved your life."

"Thank you, then, Professor," Harry croaked, "but why did _you_ scream, Hermione?"

"What do you mean, Harry? I didn't scream. Nobody did."

"But I heard somebody – a woman – scream." He assured them.

Hermione shook her head, "Harry, the Dementor – that's what they're called, by the way – it attacked you and then the professor woke up and cast that spell. You then passed out and that was about fifteen minutes ago. Since then, we've been waiting for you to wake up and the professor didn't think it was a good idea to move you and I didn't want you to be uncomfortable so I played the pillow."

"The point is," Lupin cut in, in an attempt to deflect the attention from himself and back to the patient, "nobody screamed. Dementors, though, can unearth memories from the past and they are usually…painful. They are terrible beings, ones that feed off the suffering of others. Try to put it out of mind. This should help."

With that, he assisted Harry in sitting up and gave him a large piece of chocolate.

"Glad to see you're alive, mate," Ron said, speaking his first words since Harry regained consciousness, "we all thought it was touch and go there for a while."

Harry nodded back but accepted his friend's arm to help him get back to his feet and then fall into the cushioned seats of the cabin. He couldn't work out why exactly, but put it down to stiffness consequent for being his pillow and doctor on the floor for the past quarter-hour, that Hermione and their newest teacher were still kneeling on the floor eyeing each other as though something had just happened beside him waking up.

What Harry and Ron had been ignorant of was that when Remus John Lupin was helping Harry to sit up, he had slightly brushed Hermione's hand as it was coming away from his forehead. When he was about to speak to apologise for the accidental touch, he looked to her face and saw something even more unsettling than Dementors being aboard the Hogwarts Express to search for Sirius Black but nearly murdering Harry Potter instead. When their skin touched, Hermione Granger's eyes flashed a glowing amber shade for a few seconds before resuming their brown colour.

Before Remus could ask if Hermione had felt anything unfamiliar regarding her eyes, she removed herself from her position on the floor and elevated herself to her seat once more. Hermione didn't understand why the still strange man had been staring at her as though she had paint on her face or was turning back into Millicent Bulstrode's cat, but it had unnerved her and she felt something clench around her heart that for half a second was excruciating. She deemed it not worth mentioning and held the sudden decline in temperature responsible for a momentary muscle spasm but rose from the dusty floor nevertheless.

Remus got to his feet straight after she did and excused himself, "Finish your chocolate please, Mr Potter and stay here. We should be arriving presently and I need to speak with the driver."

Once the adult had departed, Harry said in a much steadier voice, "Well, he seems nice. Better than the last two anyway."

While Ron prattled on about Lockhart's many misdeeds and Quirrell's downright dangerous behaviour and allegiance, Hermione tuned out and ended up wondering if there was more to her sudden ailing than she thought a minute ago and more importantly, if this new acquaintance had something to do with it. There was definitely room for doubt given the way he was examining her and the past two years of exposure to the world of magic had taught her that she was wise to be cautious because as she knew well, the boys she considered it her duty to look out for would never be cautious enough.


	3. Chapter Two: REMUS' RECOLLECTION

******* Author's Note *******

Thank you guys for the reviews and generally positive feedback that has been left – it means a great deal! Please do keep the reviews coming, even if they're to say you don't like certain things or have advice for me concerning my writing (we can't have my head getting too big). This is the first chapter that isn't a rewrite of an original scene, but the first of the chapters that is entirely of my own imagination. Enjoy your reading!

 **DaenerysTargary3n**

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Chapter Two: REMUS' RECOLLECTION

As he left the driver's compartment, Remus John Lupin experienced a flurry of conflicting emotions regarding what had just befallen his best friend's son. He was livid that Dementors had tried to kiss the young Mr Potter. Albus had informed him that there would be an inspection of the train, but the wardens of Azkaban had outstayed their welcome, attacked a student and not found Sirius Black in the process. All in all, the debacle was unacceptable since the Dementors had simply acted on their thirst for human misery and sorrow. He had sent an express owl to the castle to inform the staff there what had occurred and to warn the Headmaster that the Dementors who were to be left at the school were in need of control and stricter parameters for their search for Black.

Recalling the events and the people whom were involved, Remus' heart and brain were playing a tug-of-war with each other. He had heard, naturally, that Harry Potter resembled his father but inherited his mother's beautiful emerald eyes but for one who spent his youth with the boy's dead parents, it was striking how much his appearance brought back memories of Lily and James to Remus.

There was, however, something more perplexing and urgent pushing all thoughts of Harry Potter to the back of his mind and that was the young girl who had let herself get sore on the floor as she waited for Harry to regain consciousness. Hermione…Hermione Granger. Remus had never felt anything like the sensation which had passed through his entire being when his skin had accidentally come into contact with hers. He had been entirely successful in burying his wolf side during the time on both sides of the full moon; Moony stayed beneath the surface of Remus for those weeks and the man managed to function in what little society he kept. He was not like some – Greyback, for instance – who relished the hardness, bloodlust and sadism that came with the blood of the wolf. It was a curse to him that he became a wild animal for a few nights a month, and if that cursed time could be limited to a few days, then it would be. His entire life was not defined by what he did when the moon was full and high in the sky. So when he felt the wolf within him burgeoning like a baby in its mother's womb, trying to spill out into the world, quite at the wrong moment and seize control of its parent's life, when Hermione's hand brushed against him, the shock was considerable.

He had no knowledge of the girl, none at all. Yet from the way her eyes flashed a vibrant and enchanted amber, there was something within them both that had elicited an exceptionally visceral reaction. Never in his lifetime had Lupin touched another soul and felt something so powerful, so natural. It was inexplicable. Then again, with the Dementor incursion, clapping eyes on his fallen friends' son, and having an enigmatic encounter with an unknown future pupil, it was the kind of day where nothing made sense.

Remus had a funny feeling that when Albus Dumbledore invited him to return to Hogwarts as a professor, his life would alter irrevocably and the Headmaster had to summon substantial effort to convince the werewolf that he truly was needed and his 'condition' would not be an issue. Now, as Remus headed back to the compartment holding his belongings and two students he anxiously wished to get to know better, memories of the summer morning when Albus called on him sprang to mind.

 _Remus could not believe someone was rapping at his door so early, so soon after his transformation back into a man. After full moon transformations, he always needed excessive sleep to recuperate and regain his strength. The process of becoming a wolf and then returning to human shape was arduous and with the extensive running that occurred during his time as a wolf, when Remus shifted back into himself, he was always catatonic with fatigue. Those who would call – all of whom he could count on one hand – realised that they were to stay away and not be bothersome until a few days after the moon's passing. Thus, when Remus rose sluggishly to attend to the knocking at the door to his modest flat, he was expecting the death of someone or expecting that that same someone knocking would soon be dead by his own hand._

" _I'm coming!" He barked at the door in futility, for the knocking did not let up._

 _Wrapping his bare form in a threadbare robe, he opened the door and could not have been more astonished at who was on the other side._

" _Albus."_

" _Remus." The older man replied, with a glint in eye._

 _Remus was lost for words and after standing in front of the Headmaster for some moments, waved his arm to usher his guest inside._

" _Apologies, Albus," Remus said, gesturing to the unkempt interior of his home, "I was not expecting visitors so soon after…"_

" _No need to apologise, no need, old friend. Frankly, it is reassuring that you're not so neat and tidy all the time, for that's how I remember you as a student. Course, you never returned to the Gryffindor dormitory straight after the full moon, but it is interesting to see that the wolf lessens your attention to detail."_

 _The old werewolf usually appreciated Dumbledore sacrificing his time to converse with him, for he was an academic at heart and as an adult in the aftermath of the first war with Tom Riddle, he had few friends and none of them could carry a conversation concerning the intricacies of the wizarding arts and sciences. Yet, on this particular day, Remus' brain had not yet recovered from its wolfish state and it did not have the capacity to comprehend all the riddles and conundrums Albus Dumbledore usually heaped upon him and their discourse._

" _Albus, not that I don't appreciate the company…"_

" _Which you don't!" He interjected with a knowing smile._

 _Remus rolled his eyes, "No, no, I do, but the timing, Albus…couldn't you have waited a day?"_

" _In all honesty, no I could not. For, I have business to discuss with you that is important." Dumbledore responded with an added, unusual snap in his tone._

" _Consider my interest peaked."_

 _The professor smiled, "We have a hard-to-fill vacancy at the school this year – Defence Against the Dark Arts is unspoken for."_

 _Remus imagined that his former headmaster wished for some recommendations or assistance in reading the applications. The next words that came out of Dumbledore's mouth were a complete surprise to the werewolf._

" _Minerva and I would like to take you on. Just this year, if you like, but we would like you to come back and teach this year."_

" _Albus, that's insane! I can't teach! I'm a werewolf!" Remus exclaimed._

 _It always pained the Headmaster of Hogwarts that this former pupil had suffered excruciating pain and endured issues with his self-worth that stemmed from the wizarding world labelling him as one of a subspecies. Truly, Remus John Lupin was one of the kindest souls Dumbledore knew, with a sense of integrity not to be rivalled. In the battles with Lord Voldemort's forces, he had also displayed unexpected bravery and strategic intelligence, yet in the aftermath of the murders at Godric's Hollow and the loss of quite literally all his friends, the man had acquired grace and a wisdom of one who has lost everything. It called to mind events that had unfolded in his own past with Ariana and Gellert._

" _Firstly, my friend," Albus spoke calmly as if to a child on the cusp of a tantrum, "my mental state is no worse that it usually is and I very rarely speak madness. I am also aware of your lycanthropy, which you will no doubt remember from your days transforming at the Shrieking Shack, which I arranged for you. I am also an excellent judge of character, if I say so myself, and have hired many teachers to come and work at the school. Let me be clear: none of the teachers I procure cannot teach."_

 _The other man felt as if he might have implied the Headmaster, one of the greatest wizards of all time, was bad at his job – not his intention at all. However, he could not accept the proffered position, despite money issues and the need for an occupation, for he was simply not a suitable candidate to have in a place of trust over students._

" _Forgive me if I offended you, but I cannot understand why you would wish to hire me as a teacher. My…'condition' means I will be out of commission for a few days every month, meaning some other poor professor will need to cover classes regularly. What of them? Will my condition be made public? I cannot imagine the staff, the governors or the parents will be happy knowing a werewolf is residing in the castle! What then? What if someone guesses? I know Severus is still the Potions Master. I can imagine he'd be very happy to spread the word and get his own back for what the four of us did to him at school. I do not wish to be discourteous, Albus, but I cannot see how the idea of my returning to Hogwarts is practical. Now, I can help you find someone, if you wish, but there is nothing that will tempt me to accept or change my mind."_

 _Dumbledore had accepted that Remus' response would be in the ballpark of 'Hell, no!' but he was determined to have his way and knew exactly the buttons to press (however gently) to coax the man out of the hovel he had taken to living in and back into the land of the living._

" _There is one student you might be interested in getting to know and teach. A certain third year boy, orphan, talented Quidditch player, father's face, mother's eyes…" Albus teased._

 _Remus suddenly felt all the muscles seize up in his drained body. He knew precisely to whom the older wizard was referring, but dared not voice the name of his best friends' son. It was true that Harry Potter was a source of great interest to him, being the last member of his parents' group but to meet him would be dangerous. Albus knew that! It worried him just how much he would remember and grieve in the presence of James and Lily's boy. Though on the plus side, he longed to know how Harry resembled them in more than his appearance. James was brash and full of himself to a fault, but Lily was mellow and studious with a superlative heart. Their boy would only be the best of both his parents…the parts Remus missed most._

" _I know you're speaking about their son," Remus mumbled, made melancholy by the weight of regrets and what could have been, "and it's true, I do wish to know him. It seems unreal that I haven't seen him since before he could walk, but I do not trust myself enough to be around him at Hogwarts. It's not a good idea for me to teach him."_

" _Do not let your grief for the Potters cloud your judgment. Harry has constantly longed to know more about his mother and father. He has been deprived of them and the knowledge that they loved him for all his life, Remus, and you are one of the few yet living who could tell him about his father, and especially his mother. Come, teach and find yourself again. Come home."_

" _Very well. Have it your way, Albus…since you always do but I'll come just for the year. No more."_

 _Dumbledore grinned, thoroughly pleased with his day's work, "Excellent! I'll have Minerva owl you with details. Never mind anything else. Everything else will be taken care of."_

Remus sighed as he walked down each aisle of each compartment, pondering how he ever let himself be manoeuvred back into Hogwarts by the prospect of James and Lily's son. The boy did seem to attract danger and peril like no other he had ever met, but that would make for an interesting year. Besides, in the week after Dumbledore's unexpected visit, Sirius escaped Azkaban prison and was now a wanted fugitive. It was common knowledge among folk that his first port for revenge would be Harry Potter, who thwarted his master's plan. Remus was not going to permit Sirius to do anything to the only reminder he had of his family.


	4. Chapter Three: MALFOY'S MALEVOLENCE

*** Author's Note ***

Apologies for being so long absent from writing this story. I have in fact just got my first job and I work long hours on many days a week and the others I'm too tired to write. I will try to write more often than I have been as of late, but bear with me if I am a tad on the sporadic side of things. Enjoy my latest offering!

 **DaenerysTargary3n**

* * *

Chapter Three: MALFOY'S MALEVOLENCE

Arriving for his third year at Hogwarts had, as ever, been filled with complications due to Potter and his troublesome friends. For once, Draco Lucius Malfoy wished to have a school year that did not revolve around Mudbloods and halfbreeds. Yet again, however, Potter had managed to attract trouble and attention in the form of almost being kissed on the Hogwarts Express (before school had even officially commenced no less!) by Dementors.

"Malfoy," Crabbe began in his irritatingly dense tone, "want some pumpkin pie?"

"Shut up, and carry on stuffing your face. That way I won't have to listen to your stupid voice!"

The humongous feast that began the year in style was coming to a close and the new first years had already been sorted into one of the four houses. The only thing that was keeping the wearied Slytherin from his bed was the Headmaster's impending speech, which would no doubt be full of the drivel the old coot was accustomed to laying on his captive audience of a student body. Draco was hoping that Dumbledore would expound upon the Dementors' presence on the train and perhaps even name and shame Potter for being felled so easily by the creatures. He knew full well that as Headmaster's favourite that was unlikely but he could live in hope, even if it was just for a short time.

Suddenly, the platters and sharing plates that formed the spread on all five tables sunk back into the wood. All heads thereupon turned to the raised platform upon which the teachers sat and where Albus Dumbledore had taken to his feet behind the lectern to deliver his commencement speech in honour of the new school year.

"Firstly, let me welcome all of the second through seventh years back to Hogwarts and wish you well in this academic year. Also, welcome to the first years and I hope you all settle into your houses and lessons with the knowledge that assistance will always be at hand should you require or ask for it. On to more important matters, it is my sad duty to inform you that the Minister for Magic has seen fit – in the wake of a recent breakout from Azkaban prison – to install a patrol of Dementors on the grounds until the fugitive is retaken. They are under the strictest instructions not to harm any students, yet I must warn you…Dementors are not pets nor are they human. Should any student be caught sneaking out of the castle or out-of-hours, your safety cannot be guaranteed."

"See the old man's still got a flair for the melodramatic!" Malfoy whispered to those around him at the Slytherin table.

"Huh, my aunt had the Kiss administered to her, you know," a fifth year was heard boasting, "we got to watch. Bloody gruesome shit that…watching a person have their soul sucked out."

Thinking about the Dementors and the punishment that was awaiting the man they sought dragged Draco's thoughts back to his own family and his aunt, who was in Azkaban with his uncle. His mother's cousin, Sirius, whom he had never met and whom his mother had described to him since his escape as a blood traitor and unworthy to bear the honoured name of Black. Sirius had not had any hand in the deaths of Potter's parents but was guilty of betraying his kind and favouring Mudbloods and their sympathisers and plotting the demise of the Dark Lord.

"Moving on from such dreary thoughts," the Headmaster continued utterly unflustered by the nervous energy emanating from the student body below him, "it gives me great pleasure to announce two new appointments. Firstly, assuming the professorship of Defence Against the Dark Arts is Professor Lupin, whose experience and knowledge I am sure will benefit all."

Subdued but polite applause came from all tables when the middle-aged man rose ungainly and nodded to Dumbledore, his colleagues and his pupils before taking his seat once more.

"And, in the wake of Professor Kettleburn's decision to reside in France in the company of his remaining fingers. Taking on the role of Care of Magical Creatures professor this year with my greatest thanks is Professor…Hagrid."

Naturally, the other three tables erupted in rounds of applause as the great galumphing giant rose to his feet, nearly knocking Professor Snape off his chair, whose attention was still focused on his scowl at the new Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor while the members of Slytherin house, remained still and taciturn.

"That halfbreed buffoon is going to be our professor? Madness! Sheer madness: putting students in his care. The oaf can barely sit down without injuring someone!" Pansy Parkinson shrilly chimed.

"Explains why the textbook we had to get is a weapon or as good as! Took my mum forever to stroke the stupid book to stop it eating the Louis Quinze chairs." Goyle said.

Draco looked at them and Crabbe with a malevolent glint in his eye, "Any of you up for a little bit of fun this year that'll sort out our creature-professor problem?"

"What are your thoughts?"

"Well, put it this way," Malfoy crooned, pleased his posse had gotten on the wagon, "the idiot is bound to do something stupid at some point and it'll probably happen soon. All the four of us have to agree on is to do whatever is necessary to get Dumbledore to fire him. If something goes properly wrong, my father will push the board into forcing him to get rid of him 'for the safety of the students'. Let's face it, the professor has brought a dragon onto school grounds, been sent to Azkaban and Circe knows what else before we got here. One more wrong move and something that puts students in danger and we get a proper professor."


	5. Chapter Four: HAGRID'S HIPPOGRIFF

Chapter Four: HAGRID'S HIPPOGRIFF

"Welcome, third years," Hagrid's booming voice bellowed, "to Care of Magical Creatures. I hope you all managed to acquire the class textbook and study up on this year's course."

Harry, Ron and Hermione winced as each suffered at least one bite from the vicious book that attacked its owners without bias.

"Mad half-breed…what kind of professor tells his students to buy a book that will kill them before the year even starts!" Draco Malfoy's sneering tone echoed through the crowd.

Hagrid huffed and ignored the pompous Slytherin who was never going to be a civil student to him no matter what he did. He concentrated on the nearly pitying smiles of the trio of Gryffindors standing at the front of the cohort and continued.

"As a bit of a treat, I wanted to start the term with a special encounter. It is rare for anyone – let alone a bunch of third years – to have the opportunity to be in the presence of one of these creatures, and rarer still to be given the chance to fly one."

The students who had been unenchanted with their larger-than-life professor suddenly stood to attention and gazed rapt at the half-giant's face.

"Follow me…quietly!" Hagrid commanded.

"What do you think it is?" Ron asked.

"As long as he hasn't got Norbert back, it doesn't matter."

"Oh, didn't you hear, Harry? It's Norberta now. Apparently, Hagrid wasn't quite thorough enough when he checked how he should name the blasted thing."

Hermione listened as Ron and Harry muttered back and forth about what manner of beast they were about to see. Uninterested by their chatter, she approached Hagrid and walked alongside him.

"Hagrid, it's not dangerous, the thing we're about to see, is it?"

Hagrid smiled down at his little friend, "As long as you all listen to me and behave courteously and sensibly no one is going to get hurt."

"Alright. I can't wait."

When they emerged from the Forest into a paddock with a large – yet conspicuously vacant – enclosure at its centre, the group of teenagers' curious eyes darted around looking for their quarry.

"Now, before I bring him out, I have some rules for you to follow. First: no loud noises or abrupt movements. Second: do not approach him without my permission. Only one will be allowed to try and make friends with Beaky."

"What kind of scary beast is called 'Beaky'?" Malfoy muttered to his cronies.

Ron overheard and mumbled, "Hopefully, one that can peck his tongue from his pathetic mouth!"

Hagrid moved away to a small lean-to and went inside. Within minutes, he emerged holding a rope attached to the neck of a beautiful, majestic animal that towered above even Hagrid.

"Now, who amongst you can tell me what Buckbeak is?"

As per usual, Hermione's hand shot into the air with only Malfoy's following half a minute later. Hagrid nodded at Hermione, launching her into her summary of what beast stood before her.

"It's a Hippogriff. They have the front half of a giant eagle and the rear half of a horse, hence the name. They are cousins to griffins and centaurs but are unrelated to minotaurs, though the nomenclature suggests otherwise. They are dangerous in the wild, but have been known to be domesticated and respond quite well to human interaction. They largely keep to themselves and are more hostile to other magical beasts than wizard-kind. In the past, they were used as carriage drawers for highborn wizarding families. Currently, the only family to retain such a tradition are the Scamanders in New York. The shape of the beak on this specimen indicates that it is male; if it was female, the beak would be straight at the end."

Hagrid guffawed, "Excellent, Hermione, well said! Fifteen points to Gryffindor. That has earned you the reward of being the first to attempt contact with Buckbeak here."

Hagrid released the beast into the enclosure and beckoned Hermione to join him at the fence, while her classmates gathered at her back.

"Now, he's happy enough in there but Hippogriffs respond to courteous treatment and slow, unthreatening movement. You'll be fine."

Hermione took a large breath and glanced briefly at her best friends who were looking decidedly anxious for her safety if she stepped into the ring with Buckbeak.

"Right, first, walk a few paces towards him and once he looks at you, bow straightaway."

Hermione did as she was bid, silently sending prayers to Nimuë, Circe, Morgana and all other witches who had come before her. Once the sharp eagle eyes turned to her, she dropped her upper body instantly to hip height. As she raised her head slightly to witness the creature's response, she was intrigued as Buckbeak surveyed her sign of respect and humility and then strode regally towards her. When he neared her, he lowered his head and nuzzled her bushel of hair gently before rising.

"Well done, Hermione," Hagrid said, "now I think he'll let you pet him."

Hermione gulped and mumbled to herself, "This is going to be one class where I keep my hand down, very far down until the end of the year."

"Now, stand up slowly and hold your hand out. It's important though that you let him come to you." Hagrid said from the fence, chucking Buckbeak a whole dead rabbit as a reward for not mauling her, presumably.

Hermione rose gradually until she was upright and facing the torso of the magnificent animal. Just as Hermione gulped a breath and for the first time, locked eyes with Buckbeak, she felt a familiar but alien tug behind her hazelnut eyes that went directly to her heart. It was just like what she had experienced on the Hogwarts Express in the aftermath of Harry's Dementor 'attack'.

"Oh no…" Hagrid said, watching as Buckbeak laid his ears back.

"Oh no? Hagrid, why 'oh no'?!" Harry exclaimed, his worry for his best friend going into overdrive.

"Something's upset him. I've got to get Hermione out of the ring." Hagrid replied, entering the enclosure.

"Hermione, don't turn around but back away quickly from him. Something's unnerved him and he's preparing to defend himself. Just get behind me."

"But why?" Hermione asked, her inquisitive mind conquering her good sense.

"Just go!"

As Hermione retreated and Hagrid went up against his pet, she was perplexed by what had made the otherwise cordial creature suddenly react so negatively towards her.

"What happened there?" Ron asked as she returned to the group.

"Yeah, Hagrid seemed worried something happened with Buckbeak." Harry added.

Hermione frowned, watching as Hagrid fed the Hippogriff a rabbit to pacify him, "I have no idea. It was all going fine and then I had this weird feeling and then he became skittish."

Hagrid returned smiling, "Okay, that wasn't a success. Harry, why don't you give it a go?"

Harry sighed, wondering why he was fated to go up against these creatures who probably would rather have been left alone, "Alright. Same thing, I suppose?"

"Yep…off you go!"

Harry managed to get Buckbeak to submit to him and petted him with no issues. Sadly, his success only led to further challenges.

"Excellent stuff, Harry, now he's let you pet him, he'll let you ride him!" Hagrid announced.

Before Harry could protest or Hermione could intervene, Hagrid had grabbed him under the arms and deposited him just in front of the animal's wings.

"Hold on, Harry, and don't pull his feathers out – he won't like that!" Hagrid shouted, giving Buckbeak a sharp wallop on the behind, propelling him into the air.

With a yell, Harry and Buckbeak took off and began their maiden flight together. It was thrilling – the feeling of the whole school going about its day beneath them as they soared. Skimming the water of the Great Lake and feeling the spray sting his cheek as they flew made Harry scream for joy. Flying on Buckbeak was a chance he revelled in – it was divine, pure and simple. Only in the landing back in the enclosure in the paddock in front of his friends and Hagrid did Harry Potter come back to earth and feel human again.

"Amazing," Hagrid congratulated his favourite student while tossing the Hippogriff another rabbit, "well done Harry…and Buckbeak! Twenty points to Gryffindor!"

Harry slipped off the animal and joined his friends, accepting the relieved and laudatory claps on the back. He smiled as Hermione tamed his flyaway hair back into an acceptable mop on the top of his head.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, it can't be that hard! It's nothing more than an overgrown, specky pigeon. Any idiot can ride the beast."

Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy's typical bite, unwilling to let him tarnish an unforgettable experience but when he heard a sharp shriek, he turned around.

Malfoy had the gall to enter the enclosure like the arse he was and didn't bother to bow or revere the poor animal at all. He grabbed a rabbit on his way to Buckbeak and began to wave it hysterically in front of the animal, goading him on as he approached.

"This isn't going to end well…" Hermione said.

Ron shook his head and agreed, "Little twerp deserves whatever Buckbeak does to him."

"Not if Hagrid gets fired because of it, mate." Harry contested.

As Harry watched Malfoy receive the sharp end of one of the Hippogriff's talons and Hagrid sweep him up into his arms, yelling 'class dismissed' as he headed to the Hospital Wing, the joys of being on Buckbeak's back were forgotten swiftly and feelings of dread filled the void in his heart.


End file.
